


When We Were Young (Stuff Sorta Sucked)

by AMRV_5



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Chubby Newt, Complete and total absolute fluff, Fluff, Just Good Ol Newmann Fluff, M/M, Nothing to do with uprising literally no spoilers, also we've got, and I can sense all of the angst that’s going to descend upon this tag, because it's what we deserve, okay so I just saw Uprising, so i’m just here to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 20:29:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14089038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMRV_5/pseuds/AMRV_5
Summary: “They consider their reflections together in silence for a minute before Newt sighs and reaches up to tug on a portion of his beard that’s starting to look a little too salt-and-peppery for his liking. ‘We’re getting old, dude.’”———Newt’s not sure what happens to young, hip rockstars when they turn forty,  Hermann’s just inordinately grateful they’ve both made it this far together, and everyone’s stupidly in love.





	When We Were Young (Stuff Sorta Sucked)

Newt’s standing barechested in the bathroom, running a hand through his beard, when he feels Hermann wake up; a slow, sleepy cascade of thought impressions tune up out of the background static of Hermann’s sleeping mind and make their way into Newt’s brain. Hermann’s too tired to be actively broadcasting anything Newt’s way, and what does come across is a confused jumble of _cold_ and _where’s Newton got off to now_ and an intense craving for a cup of warm tea that’s so quintessentially Hermann that Newt finds himself grinning at his reflection.

  
_Sorry, mein Schatz,_ he thinks gently in the direction of the bedroom, _didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep, you’ve got a lecture in the morning._

 

 _So have you_ , an echo of Hermann’s voice grumbles in reply, before a soft knock sounds on the bathroom door.

  
Newt rolls his eyes fondly and swings the door wide, spilling fluorescent light onto a squinting, pajamas-clad Hermann.

  
“Newton.” Hermann says flatly, still scrunching his nose against the harsh light, “Why are you up wandering the house at four A.M.?”

  
He looks tired and borderline annoyed for being woken up so early, and Newt totally gets that, really, even after five years together they’re still sorting out the effects of the drift, like transmittable insomnia and occasional dream sharing and the thing where sometimes Hermann gets 90’s punk stuck in his head and Newt finds himself humming something vaguely Chopin adjacent. The thing is Newt maybe still feels just a little bit guilty about sort of attacking Hermann’s brain with his brain, even if they did, hello, literally save the world, and he probably will for the rest of his life, actually, feel guilty that is, so he reaches over and tugs Hermann into a universally apologetic kiss by the front of his sleep shirt.

  
Hermann breaks away and considers Newt for a moment. “You hardly attacked my brain.”

  
“I never said I did. Or were you eavesdropping on my thoughts, sir?” Newt shoots him a half grin that probably looks more like a grimace and goes back to considering his reflection.

  
“In my defense, you were thinking rather loudly. And…” Hermann shuffles over until their shoulders are pressed together, and catches Newt’s eye in the mirror. “...I woke up feeling that you were upset in some way. Uncertain, maybe.” He raises an eyebrow when Newt doesn’t immediately respond. “Are you alright?”

  
Newt runs a hand through his sleep-mussed hair, avoiding Hermann’s incisive gaze. “No. Yeah. I’m good. Just feeling a little weird, I guess. Know what today is?”

  
Hermann thinks for a moment before understanding dawns on his face. “Ah. I see. And this is why you are looking in the mirror at four in the morning, my little Narcissus?” His tone is teasing and light, but his concern is evident in the way he splays a large, protective hand across the small of Newt’s back.

  
“Shut up, Hermann. It’s not every day a guy turns forty.”

  
“No. I suppose not.”

  
They consider their reflections together in silence for a minute before Newt sighs and reaches up to tug on a portion of his beard that’s starting to look a little too salt-and-peppery for his liking. “We’re getting old, dude.”

  
“Yes. That is, generally, how aging works.”

  
Newt scoffs and bumps their shoulders together softly. “What kind of husband are you? I’m reasonably sure that marriage contract we signed said you have to tell me that I’m pretty and also that I’m not going grey at all and my tattoos don’t look sort of stretched out across the belly ‘cause the resident rockstar world-saving biologist is getting a little pudgy, maybe. Not ‘aging is inevitable, Newton.’”

  
Hermann cracks a smile at Newt’s terrible imitation of his accent and reaches over to settle his right hand against Newt’s cheek. “I’m not going to lie to you, if that’s what you want, darling. You _are_ going a little grey here,” he strokes Newt’s chin, “and a little here,” and his touch slides up to Newt’s temple, where his dark hair has started to streak a little lighter. “This is true.”

  
“Gee, thanks, babe.”

  
Hermann takes another step to the side and tucks his chin over Newt’s shoulder. “And yes, I hadn’t noticed before, but I do think these kaiju are a little bigger than they used to be,” he says, smoothing a thin, graceful hand over the inked softness at Newt’s side.

  
“Reckoner was a Category 2, but he’s looking more like a Cat 5 everyday,” Newt says mournfully, catching Hermann’s hand where it’s settled across his belly.

  
“Maybe. But can I tell you what I think?”

  
Newt raises both eyebrows at Hermann in the mirror. “Oh, finally, _honesty_. Tell me what you really think, Hermann, these last few minutes have felt so vague, it’s impossible to tell—hey!”  
Hermann lightly pinches his side for the unwarranted sass, but the drift is sending over nothing but warm, sappy, lovestruck vibes so Newt can’t even pretend to be annoyed.

  
“Let me finish, won’t you?” Hermann half-whispers into Newt’s shoulder. “What I mean to say is you’re as gorgeous now as you ever were. The day we first met and I fell in love with those damnable green eyes of yours, the day we painted a line down the middle of the lab because we drove each other to distraction, the day we drifted, the day we got married…”

  
Okay, so sometimes Newt gets a little too caught up in how head-over-heels he is for Hermann and forgets that, for whatever reason, Hermann’s got it just as bad for Newt. Newt, the oddball genius kaiju groupie. Talk about bad taste, Hermann.

  
“You’re not an oddball. And I have fantastic taste, thank you,” Hermann laughs against the side of his neck.

  
“Whatever. Stop reading my thoughts, man. It’s been five years and it’s still weird.”

  
“Fine.” Hermann presses a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth before drawing Newt’s attention back to the mirror. “So what do you plan to do, hmm?”

  
“Do? About what?”

  
“The ‘inevitability of aging,’ as you so elegantly paraphrased me earlier.”

  
“Hmm.” Newt tilts his head, considering his face from different angles. “I guess I could throw myself back into cellular regeneration research and try and reverse the process. Or. Maybe I could just accept it.”

  
“I know which one I would prefer,” Hermann smiles, leaning in for another quick kiss. “Besides, I think you’ve earned it.”

  
“Earned it? Earned what?” Newt asks, slightly distracted by Hermann carding his long fingers through Newt’s messy hair.

  
“Earned it,” Hermann repeats in that way he has when he thinks Newt is being terribly slow. “Earned the age, the greys, the laugh lines, the softness.” He gestures towards Newt’s reflection with a wry grin. “Really, when the war was just beginning and you and I were barely twenty two and twenty three, I often wondered if I’d ever see forty. It seemed impossible then. I thought we’d end up dead, twentysomethings robbed of our future. But,” he leaves quick kisses against Newt’s temple, his shoulder, his cheek, anything he can reach, “we fought for our future and won.”

  
“World saving rockstar scientists,” Newt murmurs in annotation, slightly overwhelmed by the sleepy-but-painfully-in-love vibes Hermann is practically radiating.

  
“Indeed. And, if it would make you happy, you could certainly dye your hair and shave your beard and even, heaven forbid, start a diet.”

  
Newt shivers in mock horror. “Don’t you ever say that word in my house again.”

  
“Yes, well. If it’s all the same to you, I like things as they are. You look relaxed. Safe. Like you should. Because we _won_. Now, for God’s sake, let’s both get back to sleep or our students will be in for some very strange lectures.” Hermann grips Newt’s shoulder for support and leads him back to the warm safety of their bed.

**Author's Note:**

> skghsjdjk okay so I saw uprising and I came to the AO3 tag to calm down from the angst and then the whole tag was angst so i just. wanted to throw something silly and fluffy in the mix. lemme know if you liked it!!! 
> 
> find me at coloredpencilroses on tumblr if you want to prompt me, get fic updates or just want to say hi!!


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